Next to Normal
by Mr. Sinestro
Summary: Clark Kent awakes one morning to find that he's become normal like everyone else, with no memory of his alter ego. Who's behind this? And what of the rest of the Justice League? Takes place pre-Justice League Unlimited.
1. A Helping Hand

Clark Kent awoke one morning, like every morning, struggling to get into his wheelchair. Lois was still on assignment so she couldn't assist him like she usually does. It didn't matter. He wanted to make it on his own. He pulled himself up with the pullies above his bed and pushed himself into the wheelchair that was next to it. Gently pressing a switch on his nightstand, the shades opened up, allowing the morning sun glistening off the Metropolis buildings to flood into the room. It made him feel stronger.

The commute wasn't so bad into the Daily Planet building but what he absolutely loathed was how the other reporters looked at him. They all saw him as a pathetic, abject victim. A victim. Something that he thought would never happen to him. It all happened so suddenly. Metallo was fighting the Justice League when some debris from one of the buildings he smashed into crushed him. They all said he was lucky after that.

Perry walked up to Clark like he was getting special treatment. There was no more Perry storming out of his offices to order Clark to go on assignment. He felt like that piece of debris landed on him too. Perry leaned down to Clark.

"Listen, buddy, I know I said I would keep you at the desk but I need you to go out in the field today. We're overstretched for reporters and…it's an easy assignment. Bruce Wayne is coming in and I just need you to go to the airport and get a few quotes for the copy. Are you okay with that? I mean, I swore that I would never—"

"Whatever you say Perry."

He smiled and strolled back into his office to berate a rookie reporter's fact checking abilities. Clark smiled too. Finally, a chance to prove himself again.

Clark arrived at the airport to see that it was already loaded with photographers, paparazzi, and, of course, hungry reporters looking to get the exclusive for their paper. Bruce's jet was parked directly in front of them with the usual red carpet treatment in front of the stairs jutting out of the aircraft. A quick escape helicopter was at the end of the carpet, taking him to another board meeting for Wayne Enterprise's Metropolis branch. That is if he was sober enough.

Bruce stumbled down the stairs of his jet as dozens of bright shots flashed across the jet. Clark pulled up in front with his pen ready to transcribe any blabber that would come out of his mouth. Bruce, wearing dark sunglasses, continued to try and maintain his composure as he walked steadily to the helicopter. It was a long night for him. All he could remember from it was that the Hiltons throw one helluva party.

Clark pulled up to the red carpet beating the sharks for the front spot. They were obviously not as sympathetic about his position as the other reporters around town were. He liked that. He extended his tape recorder in Bruce's face.

"Mr. Wayne, what do you hope to gain with your company's merger with LexCorp?"

"Uhhh…Kent, isn't it? Well…I…umm…ask me in another hour. I need a long shower and some black coffee. You can quote me on that."

He ducked out and walked steadily faster to the helicopter. Clark rolled furiously to Bruce to beat the other reporters yet again.

"Mr. Wayne! A follow-up!"

He waved him away as his bodyguards held Clark back from getting closer to the chopper. The reporters sneered and snickered amongst themselves as they all started heading back home empty handed. Clark only knew the stories about Bruce Wayne from the papers and hearsay around his circles. About town, he was known as the playboy living off his parents' fat inheritance and, in the journalist community, he was known as the man that finally ran Wayne Enterprises into the ground. Lucius Fox worked the day to day business of the company until one day Bruce decided to take the helm himself. It sunk the company into so much debt that he ended up having to beg LexCorp to buy half of the company's already toxic assets.

Bruce strolled up to the front of the helicopter asking the pilot to step out by slipping a few thousand in his pocket. He pulled up to the gears and the helicopter sprung to life. Clark and the reporters turned around as the helicopter lifted itself laboriously off the ground with Bruce at the controls.

If anything else was known about Bruce, he was a constant showman. Always trying to impress someone with the skills he learned from correspondence courses from prestigious universities across the world or any other thing he could throw money at. One week it was magic. Another week it was using his newfound knowledge in chemistry to make table salt for party guests. This week it was flying a helicopter. Then again, some of them never really worked out.

The helicopter began to spin erratically. The reporters stuck around and started placing calls with their news agencies about Bruce's latest publicity stunt. Bruce tried to wrangle with the controls in vain as the helicopter spun faster and faster around until it was on a collision course with his parked jet. As they saw this, the reporters fled in all different directions. Clark tried to wheel himself away but, in the resulting pandemonium, he was pushed over on his side. He tried to pick himself up as his calls for help were in vain. As the helicopter spun closer to the jet, Clark shielded himself with his chair, even though he knew that wouldn't help at all.

Suddenly, he heard a familiar whoosh come from the air. He looked up to see a man carrying the out of control helicopter and placing it with ease on the ground. With his own hands, he stopped the rotating blades and lifted Bruce from the pilot's seat. He was already passed out either from terror or the alcohol. Through all of this, the reporters started to crowd this man but he parted through them so he could walk over to Clark. He extended his hand and helped Clark back into his seat. Clark stared in wonder at his savior and with glee remarked:

"Thank you, Superman."


	2. Born to Run

Wally West wasn't fast enough. Another body on the streets of Central City and he couldn't do anything to stop it. Even though he worked the crime scene investigation unit, he would always know a killer's MO. The only problem was catching them. This body was the same as the others. Late 30's, shot in the heart, and wealthy. The killer knew where he was aiming every time.

It wasn't just that he wasn't fast enough. He was in a rut. Day in and day out everyday would be the same. Commute from the suburbs, examine a crime scene, and go home. The middle sounded exciting on paper but, after seeing so many crime scenes, they all eventually blurred together.

The only real exciting thing he did everyday was occasionally sneak a peak on his work computer about the latest superhero news. He always wondered why couldn't he be one of those superheroes that he always hears about? At least everyday would be another adventure.

When he stepped into the office today, it was different. He was called in by his captain into an office with the Commissioner and a couple of people he didn't know. The Commissioner stepped up to him and shook his hand.

"West. We've seen your work out on the field and we could really use your expert knowledge on this serial killer. This case really took a special interest after the last body. It just so happened to be the killer's mistake to kill a Congressman's nephew. We're partnering you up with Detective John Jones. He's from out of town."

The unassuming detective nodded so West would know who he was. It was easy for Jones to disappear in a crowd since he looked so normal. Looking at him, he had a hint of recognition but it disappeared just as quickly. Probably a case of déjà vu.

In no time at all, they were already in a cruiser with Jones looking for leads.

"So, you're FBI or what?"

"No. Just a detective. The best this city could do."

"Great, I got the Kanye West of detectives."

"I have a way with people. I can read them very well."

"Really? Can you read how excited I am to be on this assignment?"

"You probably would like to be home right now reading up on your superheroes but I need you because you're closer than me to these cases."

"At least you're honest. You got anyone that can at least identify who this person is at least?"

"We have one witness that came forward about the murders. He's an army recruiter. Goes by the name of Jon Stewart."  
"Huh, I could make a Jon Stewart joke here now but that would be too easy."

"Excuse me?"

"Jon Stewart. You know, The Daily Show."

"Never heard of it."

"Not a fan of TV, huh?"

"I prefer to watch Leno but let's not get sidetracked. Focus."

"Okay, fine. For a people person, you really don't seem to like people so much."

"I'd prefer that we play the quiet game from here on out."

"This partnership just keeps getting better and better."

The army recruitment station was empty today. When they entered, Jon Stewart was filing out some backlogged paperwork to kill some time. Jones stepped up first.

"Mr. Stewart?"

Stewart's bleary eyes looked up. They looked dim as if the world had beaten him down. His will completely sapped from him.

"Yeah. Are you the detective I called?"

"Yes and this is my associate Mr. West. He's our profiler."

"Whoa, profiler. That's a step up."

"Please continue playing the quiet game."

Jones pulled up a chair in front of Stewart.

"Can you describe to me what you saw again?"

"I saw the guy walking across the street when all of a sudden I saw this glint on the top of the building across the way. From my experience, that's the first sign of a sniper but we're in Central City, not in Iraq. Then I saw him fall. I looked back up on the building and I thought I saw this red suit."

West stepped up to the desk.

"Red suit? Did you see any other colors? A silvery white perhaps?"

"How did you know?'

Jones turned to him.

"Yes. I would like to know the same."

"Well, I'm kind of a Justice League buff so I kind of know all of their villains. I can't believe I haven't thought of it before. It's got to be Deadshot. The expert aim. The wealthy targets. This is all him."

"We aren't here to dabble in fantasy, West. We may have a completely different killer on our hands here."

Stewart heard the old familiar chime of the door opening up again. Probably someone that needs to use the bathroom. He looked up to see a man pointing a gun from his wrist squarely at him.  
"No. I'm afraid it is the very same killer."

Stewart ducked behind his desk as bullets started to spray towards him. Jones and West dodged them and ran towards Deadshot. He shot Jones right in the chest and he fell hard to the ground. He aimed towards West's head and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Well, Justice League buff, here's a souvenir you can take home to your family."

West closed his eyes as he heard the shot go off. He peaked through one of his eyes to see a barrier in front of him. Within seconds, Deadshot was yanked from the recruitment center and lifted into the air outside. Some more shots went off as Deadshot fell onto a parked car unconscious.

West ran to see how everyone was. He checked Jones' pulse to find nothing. He pumped on his chest forcefully to find out it was sturdier than a normal man's. Opening up his shirt, he saw a bulletproof vest. Jones coughed and clumsily got up.

"Where's Stewart?"

West scurried over to what was left of the desk to see Stewart clutching his leg. He examined it.

"You got lucky. It's just a flesh wound."

"Hurts like hell though. Not used to pain anymore."

"Is everyone all right in here?"

West looked up to see the Lantern floating effortlessly over them. A chill went down his spine for a moment. The Lantern's purple face always threw him off. He got up and tried to shake his hand.

"Wow, it really is an honor to meet you, sir. It's amazing that you—"

"We've been tracking him for a while. Just count yourself lucky that I got here fast enough. Now I must be off. Have a good day."

"Wait, can't I have an autograph?"

"Fine. I think that's the least I can do to make you feel better."

He took a piece of paper from the shattered desk and signed it to West. Soon after, he flew off.

To say the least, being able to go home to the suburbs today was a greater pleasure than he had in recent memory. Pasta Thursday was the best feeling he had in a while. He gleefully prepped the ingredients as he turned on the TV to the news. Apparently Bruce Wayne almost crashed his helicopter earlier in the day over in Metropolis. Figures.

When he put on the oven, he heard a knock on his door. He tried to run as fast as he could to see who it was. By the time he got to the door, he knew he was too late again. He could see no one on the other side of the door. He opened the door and noticed something on the ground. He picked it up and examined it.

It was an ordinary box. Nothing special about it except a note saying: "To the Flash" Odd. The only Flash that Central City knew of was Barry Allen but he was long gone after disappearing suddenly so many years ago. He examined it first, of course, knowing nothing of what was in it.

After a few hours, he resolved to open it. Taking off one piece of tape a little at a time, he eventually lifted up the boards. Inside there was a red costume folded neatly as if it came just out of the dry cleaners. Underneath that was a note.

"Run."

And in a flash, Wally West's house exploded.


	3. Wake Up

Diana woke up next to her fiance Dan to see that she was running late for work. She snuck out without waking him, one of the many qualities that has made their relationship last so long. Dan could be irritable if woken up suddenly. She had a special assignment today: escorting the Amazon ambassador to a conference of some sort. The limo pulled up to her apartment complex in downtown Metropolis and she sat next to the ambassador in back.

"Hi, I'll be your professional bullet-proof vest for the day. I'm Diana."

"Aresia."

"So, where do you Amazons come from? I never really figured that one out."

"Please, I need to concentrate. If I'm thrown off a little before this conference, my whole nation could lose a very important alliance."

Diana thought, wow, these Amazons really are full of themselves. She spotted the fancy metal bracers on her a wrists and a golden lasso tied to her hip. Kinky culture. Aresia spotted this and glared at her. Diana turned away instantaneously. They drove on in silence.

Clark Kent waited outside the emergency ward to see how Bruce Wayne was doing. He was a little dinged up. No injuries but still a little frazzled by what happened. Even after seeing Superman up close, he really can't get over how pale he looks. With most of his powers being generated from the sun, you would think he would've gotten a tan by now. A doctor stepped out from the room Bruce was being kept in. Clark wheeled up to him.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"Just a hangover. Lucky bastard. He could've killed a lot of people but...is this going to go in the Planet?"

"Well, I could keep this off-the-record."

"I'll just stop there then. No opinion of mine can really change how he acts."

"Mind if I go see him?"

"Seeing that he almost killed you, I don't see what the problem would be."

Clark went into Bruce's room. It was dark sat solemnly on the bed.

"Mr. Wayne?"

"No press, please. I got enough of a headache as it is."

"No questions. I'm just normal, everyday Clark Kent. You know, from earlier?"

"Oh. Kent. Right."

"I just want to say...I honestly don't care what sort of troubles you have. Now, I'm not going to lecture you on being a more responsible person. I know you have a lot of demons. If I saw my parents gunned down in the street, I'd probably be as lost as you. But that was years ago. Now look at me. Look at the people around you now. You probably don't notice them from your ivory tower in Gotham but this is who we are. I'm here because I want to show you the damage you could've caused. I have a wife. I could've had a damn family. I don't blame you for why I'm crippled but, damnit if you were going to make my friends and family suffer more than they already have.... There's a lot of people who count on me still. I support them. I hold up their world. You killing me would've crumbled all that I've worked for my entire life. They would've lost someone right here and right now. Not in the distant past but in the goddamn present. That's...that's all I have to say."

Bruce sat there in silence.

"This isn't what it was supposed to be."

"Excuse me?"

Bruce walked over to Clark and kneeled down.

"I said...this...all of this...it doesn't feel right. Something's wrong here. We aren't supposed to be like this. I just know it. And everyday it nags me. So I crawl into a bottle to find some answers...and it only makes me wake up the next morning with nothing but a migraine. It doesn't make the questions go away. Nothing feels right. You must know it too. All of this is...is wrong. Don't you believe me?"

Clark pushed Bruce away and wheeled out, not looking back at the pathetic man kneeling on the floor behind him.

Wally West woke up somewhere he would never suspect: Chicago. Waking up from the pavement, he saw the Sear's Tower looming overhead as people passed him by. He felt his clothes to see burn marks all over them. The people passing him might've thought he was just an ordinary bum. He spotted a Starbucks around the corner and slowly walked towards it. Trying to open the door, he felt a gigantic spark of static electricity. He blew on his hand and shook it for awhile.

"What the hell happened to me last night?"

He went and reached for a newspaper. On the front page, he saw a headline "Gas Main Burst Destroys Entire Block in Central City Suburb." Sonuvabitch. That was his house in the photo. Charred and burning away. What the hell happened last night?

Clark woke up the next morning to see a note on his nightstand. Strange. Lois was still out on assignment. Well, she could've stopped by to see how he was doing. She tended to do that every now again. He moved over slightly and opened it. Inside there was a note with one word: Fly.

And that when he heard the front door of his apartment burst open. Two footsteps following. He struggled to get to his wheelchair. Underneath the door, he saw two shadows come closer to the door. The handle jiggled a little. He stumbled out of bed, crawling on the floor. The door swung open slowly. The men snuck in carrying daggers with blades glowing an eerie green light. Clark felt a shiver down his spine, something he hadn't felt in a long while. He saw the window up ahead of him. The men were examining the bed. Clark latched onto the windowsill, slowly dragging his body up. The men saw a hand reach for the window. They picked up their pace. Raising their daggers, Clark, in a huff, threw open the window and leaped out in the nick of time. However, there was still gravity.

Wally sat down in the park pondering the headline he just read. Next to him, a large man sat down wearing a large fedora hat, which obscured his face.

"Shame really what happened to those people."

"Yeah."

"Any relatives in Central City?"

"Well...yeah. Kinda. I think I have a half-uncle there."

"Hmph. You think or you know?"

"Look, I've really gone through a lot today, I really don't..."

"Wally, please, for you this is just the morning run."

Wally sat aghast.

"Do I...do I know you?"

The man took off his hat to show it really wasn't a man at all. It was an ape with a gigantic brain.

"Name's Ultra-Humanite. You may have forgotten me but I haven't forgotten you...unlike most of the world. Just think of me as your guardian angel. Or albino ape as it were."

Clark continued to fall. The pavement came up faster and faster. He knew he was going to die but, what surprised him, was that he didn't blank out yet from the fall. He remembered the note on his nightstand. Fly. Before hitting the pavement, he stopped. Just like out of a cartoon. He stood staring at the pavement but he was easily a couple of inches from it. Soon he came further and further away from that as if he were filled with helium. He didn't know how to stop now.

Diana looked at the photos she had of her and Dan in her wallet. All little highlights of their relationship. A trip to Disney World. A cande-light dinner. A hiking trip on the Appalachian Trail. Good times. The limo stopped and everyone walked out. The conference looked like it was going to take place at the Luxor hotel, one of the ritziest in downtown Metropolis. It wasn't going to take place in one of the conference rooms they already had laid out. It was at a penthouse suite towards the top. Diana watched Aresia and soon everything around her. She had no idea where they were going but, as long as Aresia was with Diana, she would be safe.

They entered the spacious suite to find, to her surprise, a familiar face.

"Dan?"

Dan stared at her with a wicked grin.

"Aresia."

Aresia knocked her out, took out the lasso and tied her up.

"I really did do a good job wiping the world's mind. That's something I can check off the old bucket list."

His face melted away to nothing but a skull and a hood over his head. The grin was still on its face.

"I'm going to make sure that no one will end my wonderful dream all so soon."


	4. Back in Black

BOOM! The door of Jon Stewart's apartment burst open. A team of black-clad assassins, carrying semi-automatics, rushed in. Outside the bedroom door, they listened in to see if he was in. They lifted back their rifle butts and bashed in that door as well. Jon was brandishing a revolver. He fired a shot, which grazed one of them and they quickly retreated to the walls next to the door. Jon shouted.

"Turn right the hell back where you came from! I've been shot at enough for one day."

They nodded, put on masks, and one of them tossed a smoke bomb into the room. Jon pulled up a drawer and ducked behind it. He found a towel, tossed the water on his nightstand on it to soak it, and covered his face. A bizarre green glow started to emanate from the smoke. Jon looked down at his ring. It was the last memory he had of his ex-wife, something that he kept so that he would always remember her. Why, he still has no idea. She was always such a flighty bitch. The men threw in another grenade. One that didn't dispense smoke.

Wally was still grasping everything that the Ultra-Humanite told him. Notwithstanding that he was told all this by an albino ape with a megalomaniacal complex.

"You see, Wally, you're just caught in a bad dream. Well, a dream that happens to be in reality but a dream nonetheless. You just need to think of running."

"I don't even know how to do all of this! Why would I? Why would I keep running..."

"Oh, you can do other things too but you just need to remember. The benefits of having a gigantic brain like mine is knowing that it picks up on things that just aren't right. I don't know who's behind this but the world currently living out the dreams of someone that just doesn't want you and your friends around. At least not on their terms. We need to find who's doing this and stop this together. You with me?"

"How can I..."

"...trust me? I've been through this speech in a million different variations but I find what works the best is the incentive to live. I placed a nano-explosive at the base of your skull. If you help me, it won't go off. If you do, I'll deactivate it. Now what's more trusting than me telling you exactly what I did?"

Bruce Wayne laid on his hospital bed deep in thought. Why does everything feel so different? Was there really another world out there? A world no longer plagued with self-doubt? The cops outside his room were gone for the night. A doctor walked in with two orderlies.

"How are we feeling today, Mr. Wayne?"

"I'm not feeling well. Something isn't right. Something isn't right."

"What isn't right?"

"This world. This whole damn reality. You. This isn't where I'm supposed to be!"

"Not well at all I see. Orderlies?"

The orderlies restrained him to the bed, strapping his hands and feet. Bruce tried to fight them off but they already doped him with a syringe of morphine. They finally put a strap around his mouth and head too. The doctor stood over him.

"I'm afraid your condition has exacerbated some deep-seated psychological problems. Possibly some problems you had when you were a child. I know a place that will be able to help you out. Have you heard of Arkham Asylum?"

The doctors face melted to a skull. Bruce stared at his face in terror. The orderlies pushed him out. The skull grimaced.

"No. Not this time. I won't let them."

Detective John Jones wandered down the street. He liked to get a little lost at night. It cleared his mind. He heard a screeching van in back of him and quickly turned around. Nothing. He kept walking. A quick brush of a wind went passed him. It was bound to happen in the city now and again. Suddenly, out of the alley, two men stepped out. They were carrying flame-throwers. Without a word, they shot them towards him. He flailed on the street trying to put out the fire but to no avail. A gigantic wind gust enveloped all of them, picking up papers and other litter from the street. The assassins looked around to see what was causing it but they could only see a blur. They looked at their weapons to see they were gone and John Jones was no longer on fire. The assassins tried to flee but they were quickly thrown to the walls and knocked out. John Jones, aching with pain, stood up. He saw a man standing over him, the friction from the running causing electric shocks to periodically bounce off his shirt.

"I don't think you want to shake my hand right now."

From the alley, the Ultra-Humanite stepped out.

"And you must be the Martian Manhunter."

He extended his hairy paw.

"Sorry we were a little late. He's a fast learner but it still takes a while to find a certain man in a city as dense as this."

John looked strangely at both of them.

"What are you all talking about?"

"It'll take a while to explain but just keep this word in mind 'Phase'."

Clark Kent was suspended over the skyline of Metropolis. He found a way to stop floating up but he didn't really want to think about falling down. It was surprisingly serene up here. The sounds of the city were not as loud and that aching sense of self doubt seemed to have been erased. Might be because of the thinner air up here. He looked at his legs. They were still dangling. At least some things never change. He briefly looked over his left shoulder to see an airplane was on a collision course with him. He flapped his arms wildly trying to fly like a bird but he stayed there. Covering his face with his arms, he shouted for help. WHOOSH! He was soon flying with Superman far away from the plane. Clark turned to him.

"I'm glad I got a guardian angel in you, Supes. I think this makes two in a week. It must be some sort of record for you."

Superman grunted. They were heading incredibly fast to the ground of a busy intersection.

"Uh, Superman, do you want to slow down a little bit? We're heading to the ground awfully fast."

They kept heading quickly downwards.

"Superman!"

They slammed into the intersection. Concrete and cars flew from the impact crater. Clark opened his eyes to see that he was perfectly fine. Superman stood over him.

"What...what the hell is happening..."

With those words, Superman laid his fists into Clark's face.

Jon Stewart stared at what used to be his bedroom. A green barrier was in front of him. He couldn't move. What did this all mean? Did he get his wedding ring from a magical jeweler? Now that's ludicrous. He saw a lot of madness in his day. In Iraq, he once saw a mother blow herself up with her children in the middle of a crowded marketplace. In Afghanistan, a goat-herder that hid opium in his goats' anuses. Nothing like this though. He was just saved by what looked like the green equivalent to the Lantern's ring. With that thought, the Lantern hovered into his bedroom. He stood at Jon.

"Well, well, my old villain, the Green Lantern. I can't believe you've been hiding here all this time. Right under my nose."

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about. I have no idea why this happening to me."

"A very likely story...but I've seen what you have done. Especially to my home world. You enslaved people. Killed those that would stand in the way of your fascist ideology. You've destroyed so many lives on a whim and you never blinked. Not once. No wonder you have no memory of it all. To you it's like children destroying ants."

"Oh G-d...I did that?"

"Yes. I saw it with my own eyes."

"No...no...I can't...I can't be that monster. I don't know how to live with myself if..if..if that were true."

"Then let me end your misery right now."

The green barrier fell. The Lantern's ring lit up. A strong gust of wind blew into the apartment.

"No. Not yet. NOT YET!"

The Lantern was slammed into the wall. He picked himself up blasting his ring like a machine gun into nothingness. He leaned up against the wall. A yellow sphere enveloped him.

"I know you're here, Flash. Come out you sniveling little..."

Suddenly, arms came of the wall and pulled him in. Jon could hear a murmur of a struggle go on in the other room. Soon it died down. The Ultra-Humanite stepped into the room.

"Whoa, what happened here? And before you ask who I am, all I have to say to you is that I'm here to help. As you can see. Well, me and my friends that is."

Wally ran in.

"He's out."

John Jones followed.

"So what's the plan?"

"To start, the bad news is that you're the only three that I can get for this mission. The good news is that...well there really isn't any good news here. We're heading to Arkham."


	5. World Gone Wrong

Bruce Wayne was screaming in his cell at Arkham when the doctor came in with his nurse.

"It's bad, doctor. Real bad. He keeps screaming and screaming. It's like his mind is totally gone."

"A severe nervous breakdown. Not to worry. I have just the cure for it. Take him in for a lobotomy, Nurse Quinn."

"Isn't that a little severe, Dr. Kerr?"

The doctor smiled.

"Extreme neuroses call for extreme procedures. Pull up the mobile bed."

The nurse walked away. The doctor, with his abnormally pasty face and green hair, stepped up to Bruce and kneeled down.

"Don't worry, Mr. Wayne. I can make everything all right."

Outside the gates of Arkham, Wally West stood there with his companions John Jones, Jon Stewart, and the Ultra-Humanite. Wally laid against the gates, heaving.

"I'm not used to all this running. Can we slow down for a little bit?"

Ultra-Humanite stepped up to him.

"Not now, kid. We're too damn close to stop."

"If we're going on, will you get rid of that explosive-whatever-the-heck-it's-called off my back now please? It's starting to make me nervous."

"Oh, there was no explosive. It's hard to stealthily place a small explosive with giant hairy paws. One of the downsides of having my brain in an ape."

"Strangely, I think that just ruins this whole trust thing."

"Got you running, didn't it?"

He turned to John and Jon.

"Okay, listen up. I know I haven't said much up until this point besides actually giving you a quick tutorial about how your basic powers work. I know..."

Jon's ring blasted into the darkness.

"Sorry, that really doesn't happen to me often."

"Just think of baseball. Now. Back to business. As you know, this is where all the bad mojo is coming from that made you this way. Once you step passed these gates, the lives you have right now will be gone forever. Are you all willing to accept that?"

They stared back at each other. Wally stepped up.

"I haven't had the best life. Whatever excitement I had was reading about the Justice League. Now...now I can actually be a part of it. I can't even believe this is happening. This really is a dream come true."

Jon stepped up.

"I can say we all had our fair share of bad shakes. To say that these new powers are a miracle is to put it lightly. We just can't go in half-cocked. We may not have the time to train but we at least need to know how to approach this. I can't really speak for everyone..."

John stepped up.

"No. You can't. I'm perfectly happy the way I am right now. I'm leaving."

John wandered off. Ultra-Humanite shouted.

"There are two hostages inside there. Are you just going to walk away from that? Like you walked away from your family?"

John stopped and turned around.

"Yes. Yes I am. I'm fine with this world. I've made my peace with it. It's the new world that scares me."

"Yes. Change. Something else you need to learn, John. I'm not going to keep you here. You can leave at any time. Just a word of warning. What I taught you here today, no matter the outcome of what happens in there, will remain with you always. You may try to forget it all but it will always linger there beneath the surface. Haunting you like a poltergeist. It may come out at the worst possible times. Imagine phasing while on an airplane. Falling through the hull all the way to the ground. 30,000 feet below. That won't be pleasant. Or suppose you accidently phase right through the planet. Still want to leave?"

John thought for a moment. He walked silently back in defeat.

"That's a good chap. Here's the plan..."

John stepped up to the front desk of Arkham Asylum. Sitting in the receptionist chair was a woman with a green complexion. She turned to John in anticipation.

"I'd like to commit myself."

"Well, we're pretty full over here. We tend to take involuntary commitments mostly. What is your problem?"

"I hear other people's minds."

"Can you hear what I'm thinking?"

He thought for a moment.

"Yes. You want to conquer the world with an army of killer plants."

"Uh huh."

She pressed the buzzer.

"Can I have some orderlies down here right away?"

Some orderlies came in through the big steel doors behind her. Suddenly, they all felt a gust of wind blow past them. The receptionist's papers fell to the floor.

"Did someone leave a door open?"

Bruce was held down tight to the bed as the nurse wheeled him into the operating theater. The doctor stepped in a little after and turned to Bruce.

"Just so you feel comfortable before I start, I want to show you my friends."

He put on latex gloves loosely on his hands and pulled up a tray of implements. He picked up a clamp.

"This is what I'm going to use to spread open your nostril so it will be easier to get at your brain."

He picked up a jagged pick.

"This is what I'll use to scoop out your frontal lobe."

He picked up a rubber duck.

"And this is just for fun. I don't like to take operations too seriously. Nurse Quinn, the anesthetic."

Nurse Quinn gave the doctor a syringe. He pointed it at Bruce's skull. Bruce struggled from his straps.

"Don't struggle. Trust me. I'm a doctor."

A gust of wind blew into the operating theater.

The doctor fell swiftly to the floor as a blur hit him in the face. Wally slowed down and quickly undid Bruce's straps.

"If I get to be a superhero after this, I trust you won't blab about my secret identity."

Bruce turned to him.

"Who are you anyways?"

The nurse came at Bruce from behind with a scalpel but she was slammed into a wall by a green light.

"I think we better go get Diana before we get noticed."

Wally looked around.

"Too late."

On the upper-tiers, he saw a variety of doctors staring down. One of them had half of his face disfigured. Another looked reptilian. Yet another had a wooden dummy on his hand. The operating theater doors blew off their hinges. At the archway stood Aresia and Diana. Diana turned to them.

"How dare you take Dan away from me."

In the attic of Arkham, Dr. Destiny looked over the city of Gotham from his chair. It was a sparse room that he chose to reside in. He wasn't really much a fan of clutter. A light came through where the ladder downstairs would lead him. The Ultra-Humanite stepped up from it and sealed the door.

"Hello Doctor. It is Doctor isn't it? Or are you just another one of those costumed charlatans that just likes to pretend they are one?"

Dr. Destiny stood up and turned to him.

"I'm about as much as a doctor as the doctors down below."

"At least that's settled. That question was nagging at me all night. I bet you probably know why I'm here."

"You want me to stop my nefarious plot because you can't believe that a one-shot villain like myself could control the world all so suddenly. While you, with the superior brain, are left to meander on the edges of forgotten Justice League rogues."

"That's at least partially right."

"But I bet you also probably want to know how I did it."

Ultra-Humanite leaned back on a pillar.

"Go on."

"This place is a nexus of madness. The perfect focal point to make the world sane again. I'm surprised no one has tried this before. In one fell swoop, I changed how the entire world thought. It was like setting a match to an entire oil field. Do you realize how insane the world is? Have you stepped back and looked at what we all are? I'm a man that projects nightmares. You're a man whose brain is in an albino gorilla. There are men and women that run around in tights that beat us up on a semi-regular basis. We go to jail but we always end up busting out. This isn't a normal life."

"Normal is relative."

"I used to be a common criminal. That was my life. Then I got...this. All I saw were nightmares. Then I fell into that coma. Of course, I eventually woke up from that. Afterwards, I thought, why not, for once, project a lovely dream. You see my world out there. You can't tell me it was better before. Our old nemeses are crippled. Every act of super-heroism is now solely done by us. We won. It's over. Can you let your mind just savor that?"

"Not really. It's a fool's fantasy because it's too good to be true. You must realize this somewhere in that demented, screwed up brain of yours."

"I sometimes doubted what I was doing but then I looked outside. Everyone going about their business. Not carrying whether or not the world would end tomorrow. Living their lives like normal people. It's so...beautiful."

There was silence between them. Dr. Destiny looked outside the window again.

"So here we are. Going back to our old ways. Fighting to settle our issues. How did we end up here?"

"I have no clue but I'm not here to dwell on existential issues. Frankly, from my experience and seeing all the other rogues out there, I learned one simple truth: we don't win. Sure, we may win some small battles, but in the end we always end up back here or in Blackgate or some other super-max facility. What separates me from the rest of you animals is that I know where the wind blows. I know that you don't have to blast your way through the ranks of the Justice League to make your dreams come true. It was only a matter of time before they woke up and started discovering their abilities again. I merely just took advantage of it, pulled some strings, so, yet again, I end up on the winning team. Now here comes the nasty part. I'm here to finally stop whatever it is you did."

Dr. Destiny turned to Ultra-Humanite.

"The only way you can stop this is if you kill me."

Ultra-Humanite thought for a split-second.

"I can live with that."


	6. Dream a Little Dream of Me

"You ruin Superman's dream!"

Clark Kent's face was being pounded into the pavement. After the initial thrill of finding out he was now nigh-invulnerable, it was beginning to wear a little thin on Clark now that his face started getting bloody. His arms were pinned down to the ground or at least he thought they were. Just like his legs. He stared deep into Superman's eyes and glared. He was getting annoyed at being life's punching bag. Clark, the farmboy reporter. Clark, the novice. Clark, the handicapped man. His eyes turned red and a brilliantly bright beam shot out of them, hurling Superman across town. At least he thought it was across town. Clark lifted himself up. The feeling in his legs returned to him. He could walk again. Wiping away the blood from his nose, he smiled knowing that things were turning around in his favor for once.

Back at Arkham, things were turning around as well...though, not necessarily positively for Wally West and Jon Stewart. Wally dodged every blow that Diana was throwing at him but that's all he was doing. Dodging. At her speed, he can't lay anything else in to stop her. Jon held a green barrier around him as Aresia tried bashing him in repeatedly with the operating table. The doctors in the gallery were taking notes. Jon turned to Wally.

"I don't know if I can hold onto this much longer. Wally?"

Wally kept dodging.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this. Dodge, dodge, left, right, down. Just like Street Fighter."

Diana picked up a syringe from the floor.

"I may not be able to hurt you right now...but I can take care of that one on the floor quite well."

She pointed to Bruce Wayne. He was still dazed from the straps and getting used to his surroundings. Diana charged towards him. Without thinking, he grabbed her by the wrists and tossed her into the gallery, shattering the glass wall. The syringe fell to the ground as she lost her grip. He looked at his hands.

"What...what...was..."

Aresia threw the operating table at him but Bruce was able to duck right on time. Diana jumped down from the gallery.

"That was unpleasant."

Diana lunged at him and punched him to the ground. She turned to Jon and, twirling her rope, snagged him. She twirled the rope in the air and swung it, Jon in tow, towards Wally. Before he could turn around, he was knocked unconscious by the force. Jon was dazed on the rope. Aresia walked towards him, picking up the operating table again.

"Lets see you use that fancy ring of yours now."

She lifted the operating table over his head. Phasing from the floor, John Jones took the still in-tact syringe and jammed it into Aresia's backside. The table fell to her side as she slumped over. He became whole again as he stood over her. He turned to Diana.

"All shall be well."

His eyes turned red and Diana fell asleep on the ground. His eyes returned to normal and he stared into the gallery. The doctors weren't there anymore.

Clark flew to where Superman finally landed: Central Park. Landing briskly on his feet, he examined the crater in the middle of the Great Lawn to see no one was in it. He lifted himself out of it to see Superman staggering through the park. He remembered now. That building that collapsed. The last image he could see was of Superman flying away as if nothing happened. It wasn't that he left him to die that really got Clark. It was that he didn't care. Clark didn't matter to him. None of the aftermath mattered to him. Superman made this miserable life for him. He could've forgiven Superman, considering his new powers, but another feeling completely overwhelmed him for the first time in this life: vengeance.

"You took my legs away from me, you son of a bitch."

Clark slammed himself right into Superman and knocked him into Bethesda Fountain. A path of splintered trees followed in their wake. The cherub on top fell on Superman's head and he wiped it away. On Superman's face was nothing but sadness and regret. Clark slammed his fists into Superman's face. He had the upper-hand now. With each blow, the park rumbled.

In the attic, Dr. Destiny was bleeding from the copious beating he was receiving. He was slumped on the floor with Ultra-Humanite standing over him.

"Had enough?"

Dr. Destiny struggled to pick himself up.

"No."

"Duly noted."

Ultra-Humanite picked him up and tossed him across the room, shattering part of a pillar on his way down.

"You know why your dream doesn't affect me? Having my brain transplanted in so many bodies has made the mere idea of dreaming a frivolous novelty. Why do I need to dream when I can do everything I think of? AlI can see in front of me right now is a little man being beaten death. You can save your little parlor tricks for the rest of hoople-heads out there."

Dr. Destiny staggered up again.

"I'm not trying to portray myself as being smarter than you. Frankly, I should've planned for this earlier."

"I'm glad you didn't. Makes my job easier."

"Yes..."

Dr. Destiny took out a semi-automatic pistol from his pocket and shot Ultra-Humanite repeatedly in the chest. He fell to the ground.

"But that doesn't mean I shouldn't keep something to protect myself. Wherever you're friends are going now, I hope they dream a little dream of me on the way there."

John shook Wally back into consciousness.

"We need to get out of here."

Bruce and Jon stood over him. Diana was slung over John's shoulder. Wally, after some false starts, stood up.

"Just a sec. Need to get my bearings."

There was shuffling in the other room.

"The quicker the better, Wally."

"Might need a little help, Jon."

Jon tethered everyone together with his green light. Wally put his feet to the ground and shortly they were out the front door. He stopped there staring ahead of him.

"I can't go further."

John turned to Wally.

"Why?"

"Because I would run right through all of the people in front us."

In front of them was the entire population of Gotham. They were storming towards Arkham.


	7. This is Your World

"All good things must come to an end. Especially dreams."

Dr. Destiny kicked Ultra-Humanite's broken body on the floor.

"But not my dreams. Not my dreams."

He continued kicking. Ultra-Humanite coughed up blood.

"You're an idiot, you know that? You should've gone for the head. I'll just come back in another body."

"I saved a bullet just for that. Until then, I'm going to watch you like a good television show. Each neuron in your brain blinking out bit by bit as your body deteriorates. Then, when I'm bored, I'll just go look outside and see my other program. The Justice League being ripped to shreds by the people they save."

The gates were almost off their hinges. Jon Stewart tried as hard as he could to hold it together but he was starting to lose focus. Wally West was barricading Arkham so the doctors couldn't escape and rip them to shreds. There was already enough people trying to kill them as it was. The old saying about being between a rock and a hard place was never so pertinent to them as it was now. Jon was sweating.

"I just learned this stupid thing last night! Why does everyone expect so much from me?"

John Jones turned to him, his eyes red.

"All shall be well, Jon. All shall be well."

Suddenly, the crowd moved like Moses parting the Red Sea. A gigantic horn blared. John gazed on in terror. A tanker truck was hurtling towards the gates at a tremendous speed. Jon tried to grab the truck with the fences but it was too much to demand for a novice. BOOM! Everyone flew back into the walls of Arkham with Wally's makeshift barrier falling apart.

Clark Kent was still pounding Superman into what was left of the fountain. Around him, cracks developed in the pavement as the stronger blows created miniature earthquakes around Central Park. Superman grabbed both of Clark's arms and headbutted him to the ground. Superman stood above him.

"Do Clark realize what Clark doing?"

Clark looked around to see nothing but ruins. Most of Central Park was in ruins and the buildings surrounding it were shedding concrete. Even with his broken English (which Clark always presumed was there because he came from another planet), Superman was right. He was turning into a monster. Clark looked at his hands in disbelief.

"How...how can...I..."

At which point Superman hurled Clark clear across town and towns further on. Superman followed at sonic speed.

Dr. Destiny watched on with glee as the crowd hauled Bruce Wayne and Diana as they desperately tried to fight them off. All he wished he had now was some popcorn. Ultra-Humanite crawled to his chair.

"Lying on the floor here...I realized the floorboards aren't the most sound."

Dr. Destiny turned to him.

"I'll be glad to send them your post-mortem complaint."

"No, I'm about to thank them."

Dr. Destiny looked below his chair to see he placed it on rotting wood. He tried to get up but in vain. Ultra-Humanite had already smashed the floor underneath them with one of his last ounces of strength. They fell down into the morgue...which was ten floors below.

Wally was trying to knock out as many people as he could with swift punches but even he realized this was futile. John stood there immaterial as he tried to calm as many people down as possible. The doctors were already out and they were battling the crowd for Bruce and Diana. Jon was trying to muster up all the will that he could but found it useless with people grabbing his arms. Diana heard a sonic boom and looked up to the sky. There were two men fighting up above them. Their blows were rumbling the area. Then she realized what would happen if they plunged to the ground, on top of all these people. It would be the equivalent of a small nuclear weapon.

Dr. Destiny was coughing up blood. He slowly picked his head up to see that his torso was impaled on a bunch of medical instruments. Ultra-Humanite was no better. He rolled over, breathing hard. Dr. Destiny laughed.

"So this is how we die, huh? In the morgue of an insane asylum."

Ultra-Humanite slunk over to a medical table.

"What are you going to do now? I can keep this mass illusion up for as long as I live. Perhaps longer. My brain is more powerful than any being on Earth. Death is just an inconvenience."

"Stop talking. As opposed to you, I am an actual doctor. A certified neurosurgeon in fact."

He picked up an electric bonesaw from the table and pressed it to Dr. Destiny's head.

"Now lets see what you got in there."

He put it on.

Clark and Superman were nearing the end of their endurance. It wouldn't be long now before they collapsed down to the crowd below. Some questions started coming up in his head now. Why were they fighting over them anyways? Why did they end up here? Suddenly, from the ground, he saw someone rising up. Before he could make the person out, she grabbed him and flung him away from Superman. Superman, enraged, growled.

"Superman go bye-bye."

Superman plummeted to the ground.

"Here Superman come to save the day!"

A brilliant green light slowed him down.

"What is this?"

The people on the ground began to meander like they were all waking up as if they all became somnambulists overnight.

"No! Bizarro must finish mission!"

He pushed harder against the green light but soon he was caught in an updraft as a tornado came up from the ground. Before long, another green thing came at him, this time a dragon. Curling around him like a boa, it constricted him into unconsciousness. Bizarro fell lightly to the ground.

Clark slowly woke up and saw Diana was carrying him. He looked down below to see everyone seemingly waking up as well.

"Uh...Diana. What just happened?"

Epilogue:

Hume Uthgard was mowing his lawn in the middle of Marietta, GA. He had a reasonably sized house and a reasonable job, working as a marketing executive in downtown Atlanta. Passing in front of his quaint suburban house was his neighbors: the Hendersons. He waved at them and they pleasantly waved back. He moved in just a few weeks ago but he was already friends with half his neighborhood. There was something about his charming personality that made them want to be friends with him almost instantly. Even so, they always had something creeping up in the back of their minds that something was off about him. Maybe it was his gigantic head or maybe it was the weird scars around his temple (he said it was because of an accident that he had from when he was an officer in Gotham). Perhaps it was his last name (which he said was Scandinavian in origin). It didn't matter. He was always present at the neighborhood watch meetings with insightful information. He was a joy to have at book club. He saved the Smith child from getting run over a few weeks ago. Hume was the greatest thing to happen to the neighborhood since they opened up the Trader Joe's a few miles away.

He stored his lawnmower in the garage and casually walked into his house. It didn't really bother him that he was essentially wandering around in a stolen body. Or that one day someone might ask him if he looked familiar. He could talk anyone out of anything. He sat down on his recliner sofa and turned on the television. More on the aftermath of the mass insanity in Gotham. Ah, well, 24-hour news channels have to find some ways to fill up their schedule. Of course, the Justice League is on this. They suspect it must've been Gorilla Grodd. Typical. Always blaming that ape instead of him. The Justice League wouldn't even care about him anyways. Two supervillains out-of-commission must really lighten their workload. Besides, that whole supervillain phase of his life was over now. All he wanted now was the quiet.

He liked being normal for once.


End file.
